Kate Beckett's Heart
by Pelman
Summary: Sometimes she feels like the only real piece of her heart is hanging from a chain around her neck.
1. Beginnings

**Summary: **_A series of drabbles and one shots about the state of Kate Beckett's heart through the years._

**Chapter 1: Beginnings**

* * *

><p>Kate Beckett's heart breaks when she is nineteen. And as the days go by she picks up the pieces, forces them back together in a harsh mockery of what was there before. It holds. Mostly.<p>

But it is a heart waiting to be shattered again.

So she starts building a wall.

* * *

><p>She finds these books. They're about a man. Derek Storm. He tries to save the world. She reads them all, and when she finishes the last one she reads them again.<p>

It's her fourth time through the series when she picks up an application for the New York City Police Department.

She doesn't tell her dad.

* * *

><p>During the oral board she says all the right things. She knows with the background check they will find out about her mother, so she doesn't try to hide anything. Instead, she just makes it seem like the most unimportant thing in the world. But there is a small part of her that is dying as she speaks.<p>

* * *

><p>Her goal going into the Academy is to fly under the radar, do what she needs to and get through it. It's just another box to check off.<p>

It takes all of a day to realize that's not going to be possible.

So she decides she's going to be extraordinary.

* * *

><p>You will survive. That is the message drummed into their heads during every simulation, every scenario, every debriefing. You. Will. Survive.<p>

It is a lesson she doesn't need to be taught.

* * *

><p>She graduates from the Police Academy. And then she heads down the rabbit hole.<p> 


	2. Anchors

**Chapter 2: Anchors**

_Takes place during the Season 2 finale_

* * *

><p>She hasn't ever done this before. Followed her heart, isn't that what they say. But she thinks, maybe this is it. Maybe this is the shot that she would look back at years from now and wonder... So she takes it.<p>

She's not used to letting her personal feelings dictate her choices. Focus and drive and…walls, that's what gotten her to where she is right now. She knows this. She knows what it has made her. But right now…she wants to be someone else.

And so she finds herself standing with Castle outside the break room, trying to find the words that are so rusty, she has to reach deep inside to find them. Inside her walls.

But suddenly Gina is standing there and suddenly there is fresh pain where there has only been a dull throbbing for years and suddenly…

She rebuilds her walls. She vows to guard them. She—

She goes home that night and cries.

* * *

><p>She goes to work the next day, even though she isn't supposed to be there, really, and with the closed case there's not much to do until the next body shows up. She sits at her desk looking at cold cases for a while until the empty chair next to her makes her think, too much. She gets up and takes it to storage, but can't bring herself to leave it there. So back it goes beside her desk.<p>

When she sits back down, the soothing nothingness is no longer to be found in looking through case reports she's visited dozens of times before. So she sits and thinks. The squad room is nearly empty, the pull of the holiday having stolen everyone who could manage it.

She hates him.

And she misses her partner.

* * *

><p>It is late at the precinct, and the arctic blast of air conditioning is a welcome relief to the sultry humidity that blankets the city even at night. She has been staying later and later as the summer goes on. There's always work to be done and going home, well, there hasn't been much appeal lately. All that waits her is a barren refrigerator (Styrofoam shrine, her brain unwillingly supplies) and the empty night.<p>

She has left the chair by her desk. Ryan tried to sit in it once. Only once.

As the nighttime noises murmur in the background, she sits and stares at the murder board. And talks.

"What's the connection? What are we missing?"

The chair does not talk back. She tells herself she likes it better that way.

* * *

><p>When he comes back, she doesn't talk to him about the summer. Doesn't tell him how as June turned into July turned into August she increasingly went to the edge in her pursuit of bad guys. Pushed the boundaries. Cut some corners.<p>

She doesn't tell him how she was hunting down a lead, made a connection, and went in without backup. Was caught in a stupid trap she should have seen coming.

How they grabbed her. Knocked her around, left her lying in a heap in an ally. A couple of low life crooks who weren't stupid enough to kill a cop but figured this was their chance for payback.

She doesn't tell him how, after that, the Captain had Esposito and Ryan tailing her around, made her promise to take one of them with her anytime she was out on the street.

They never have a conversation about how there are many kinds of rabbit holes. And how it is the same obsessive need that drives her to investigate her mother's murder that also drives her in other directions. Because her anchor was ripped away at the age of 19 and now it is all too easy to get caught in the current.

She knows he senses something is off. Sometimes, she catches him watching her when he thinks she's not looking.

But she doesn't tell him.

He doesn't need to know.

* * *

><p>Sometimes, though, she still thinks about it.<p>

In her head it goes like this.

_They are at the precinct. It is night. They have just closed a case, and everyone else is long gone to their homes and families and significant others. She is doing paperwork. _

_He somehow understands what it means to her, to be able to put down these cold, clear, unalterable words. That the killer has been caught. That they know what happened. That the victim…_

_The victim has been laid to rest. _

_So she sits and does paperwork. He sits and watches her. She pretends not to notice. He pretends not to notice her noticing._

_It is all so very right_.

_And in the silence that builds out of the night and the stillness of a place that is normally so very hectic, so very alive, in that silence she finds the space to say these words. _

_"That night last summer. I was going to tell you. I was going to tell you I broke up with Demming."_

_He stills beside her, and she focuses intensely on the reports in front of her, unable to bring herself to look at him._

_"I was going to ask to go to the Hamptons with you. I was going to put up with your stupid response and your stupid teasing and your stupid face." She senses him shift beside her, no doubt trying to contain some indignant retort. But when she turns to look at him, there is no levity in his eyes, no mock outrage. _

_His face is stricken. _

_They stare at each other, and she half whispers, "I was going to go."_

* * *

><p>One day he asks, "What did I do?"<p>

She never tells him.


	3. Undercover 1

**Chapter 3: Undercover**

* * *

><p>Castle returns and she is gone. The boys aren't saying anything, even Montgomery is uncustomarily close-mouthed about where the detective is.<p>

Weeks go by. And then is she back, with only some bruises and a haunted expression (hidden away the moment she spots him) to mark the passage of time.

"Undercover, huh. I thought detectives didn't have to do that kind of thing." The words are out before he can control them.

She looks at him in disbelief, opens her mouth and then closes it. Shudders, right in front of him, before turning away. It is only with her face hidden that he hears her voice. "Not right now, Castle." And then she leaves.

* * *

><p><em>Roy Montgomery is the newly appointed captain of the 12th, and as much pride as he takes in the promotion, it's been difficult dealing with the back seat role he is forced into in the area of investigative fieldwork. These late night runs down to archives to sift through old case files help soothe the itch, make him feel like he isn't going soft. <em>

_Usually he is the only one down here. But tonight, after he unlocks the door and steps through, flicks on the light, he sees her. _

_It is like seeing a ghost. It has been three years since Johanna Beckett's death, ten years since Armen's, and not a day goes by when he doesn't remember his sins. But to be confronted by them, in the flesh…_

_He knew she had a daughter, but seeing this woman in front of him, flashlight in one hand, case file in the other, a banker's box open on the floor by her feet—it's too much. Particularly when her startled gaze turns toward the door and green eyes meet his. _

"_What the hell are you doing in here?" The shock causes him revert to his training, and the words are automatic. _

_She hesitates, and he can see the wheels spinning, trying to think of a way to justify her presence in a room a beat cop would rarely have cause to be. Then the moment passes, and she squares her shoulders, turns to face him._

"_No excuse, sir. I just…I was curious. Wanted to look at some old cases. Check out the glory days."_

_He hears the resignation in her voice, can see her mentally preparing for the reprimand and the write-up. But there is no fear of punishment in those eyes, just a kind of bitterness and a shell so hard he's surprised it hasn't broken. She holds herself stiffly, isn't even trying to make him believe the words coming out of her mouth. _

_He gives her a long look. But in this room, standing here in front of him, he doesn't see a rookie cop breaking the rules. Instead, he sees a chance to make his stand, the way he couldn't all those years ago._

_There's no victories, but this a battle he can still fight._

_He sends her away, and waits until the door closes behind her to go to the files lying on the floor._

* * *

><p><em>She realizes once she leaves the room. He never asked her name.<em>

* * *

><p>Castle walks into the precinct the next day and Beckett is again not there. Instead, he is greeted with the unusual sight of Captain Montgomery sitting at the detective's desk.<p>

"Where's Beckett?" Castle means to exchange pleasantries, maybe open with one of the wisecracks that is almost second nature to him, but he finds the words tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop them.

The Captain looks pensive. "Did I ever tell you what got Kate promoted to homicide?"

Castle goes with it, shakes his head, sits down in his chair.

* * *

><p><em>There are no more chance meetings in the night. Either she's stopped digging (and he knows the likelihood of that) or she's gotten more careful. <em>

_One year stretches into two becomes three. The fresh faced rookie pays her dues, finishes field training. Midway through her second year she requests a transfer to narcotics. It's granted. _

_He reads her evaluations. Glances through the occasional case report. She's good. Of that there's no doubt. Even in the world of homicide her name occasionally comes up. _

_And then the McKinney case hits._

* * *

><p>"It was a highly publicized case. Here at the precinct it was all hands on deck. Hell, we even called in the Feds to assist. But nothing was working. So Narcotics starts thinking that maybe if they take a new angle with it, force the guy's hand, they can get him to make a mistake."<p>

"And Beckett volunteered."

"Yeah." The Captain is silent for a moment. "Yeah, Beckett volunteered."

* * *

><p><em>He's at one of the briefings where they prep her. He gets in first and sits down, wonders if she'll remember him. When she walks through the door her gaze barely lingers on him and then she's moving ahead, taking her seat at the table. If he wasn't looking for it, he never would have noticed.<em>

_She looks…tired, if he's telling the truth. And the ingrained set to the lines in her face makes him think it's not a recent thing. But the determination he remembers, the drive that dares anyone to stop her—_

_And the hardness, the patched over hurt, it's all still there. But she's gotten better at hiding it. _

_He thinks to himself, if anyone can make this work, it's Kate Beckett._

_She goes into the dragon's lair, and they almost don't get her back._

* * *

><p>Castle still doesn't know where this is going. It's one more layer to the Beckett onion, but he doesn't want to learn it from Montgomery.<p>

He wants Beckett.

The Captain turns to him. "Kate Beckett is one of the best undercover cops I've seen. Because she disappears. A lot of these guys, they get into the job, things start happening, and then it all goes up in smoke because they feel the need to blab about it to someone else."

"But not Beckett."

"No, not Beckett."

Montgomery leans back in his chair, looks him in the eye. "She goes deep, and one of these times…"

And then it hits. Castle sees all too well what this is all about. "You're afraid she's not going to come back out."

It's not a question.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _To be concluded in the next chapter. _


	4. Undercover 2

**Chapter 4: Undercover II**

* * *

><p><em>She had figured that by now Castle would have given up coming in. At least until one of them called him again. So she assumed it was safe. <em>

_But no, when she walks in, there he is, sitting in his chair. Like he's never left._

_She chalks it up to the stupidity of one Rick Castle. Doesn't let herself think it means anymore than that. _

_Can't let herself think that way. Can't let herself feel—_

* * *

><p>Six weeks ago, it wouldn't have mattered.<p>

She's sitting at her desk, reading through the phone records of a suspect, when Montgomery calls her into his office.

Upon entering she discovers the Captain is not alone. There are two suits in there with him. Feds, maybe?

She turns hesitantly to Montgomery. "Sir." But he won't look at her. His face is tight, angry.

"These gentlemen are from the CIA. They'd like to speak with you about a case they're investigating."

Montgomery takes his leave, then, his posture stiff, hostile, screaming that he doesn't agree with any of this. Once he's gone, she turns to face the two men. She figures she'll take her lead from her Captain. Besides, she's not in the mood to be polite right now.

"What do you want?"

The one on the right glances at his colleague, amused, before speaking. "What can you tell us about the Alex McKinney case, Detective Beckett?"

* * *

><p><em>She's young, so, so young. And everything's still locked up tight. And all she can see is—her mother's death, stretching out so far. There doesn't seem to be an end.<em>

_So the offer seems like everything she needs. She's not stupid. She knows that just working hard and being a good cop won't be enough to get her promoted, not to the level she wants. She was planning to get into some undercover work eventually, anyways. _

_And so she doesn't see the job for what it is, doesn't see how they're asking for volunteers because the likelihood is whoever goes into this isn't coming out. _

_Alex McKinney knows they're after him. And they don't have the luxury of time. _

_Royce gets it. But she doesn't listen._

_**...**_

_She and Royce go out for drinks the evening after the case breaks at the precinct. They're sitting at the bar, nursing a couple of beers, when she tells him._

"_They want me to do some undercover work."_

_She watches his reaction closely. His face gives away nothing._

"_Yeah?"_

_Royce is good at not pushing, not pressing. She loves him for that. _

"_I think I'm going to do it." _

_This time she catches the uneasiness in the shift of his shoulders, the way his hands grab at the glass. He's her partner. She knows what he's thinking._

_**...**_

_It's a couple of drinks later when everything breaks. Because Royce sees everything she's missing. And this time, he's not going to back down. But neither is she. And so, they fight._

_It turns ugly, fast. _

"_Kid, I taught you better than this."_

"_You taught me? You know what you taught me, _Royce, _you taught me to do what it takes."_

"_You know what, fine." He's standing up now. So is she. "You want to throw your life away, go ahead. Hell, you've been doing it for years now anyway."_

_She stares at him. Royce never brings up her mother's death. Never. _

_Royce looks uneasy. There's an apology on his face as he says, "Look, kid. I—"_

"_Go to hell."_

_And then she's gone._

* * *

><p>The Feds dance around the subject for a while, but in the end it doesn't matter. She knows what's coming, knows what they want. Going into this with eyes wide open doesn't make it feel any different.<p>

She says yes. And kind of hates herself for it. And thinking about _that_ raises some issues she'd rather leave buried.

So she just pushes it all deep behind her thickest walls.

And goes and does her job.

* * *

><p>It's a day after her unwanted encounter with Castle in the precinct. She's standing in the locker room, getting ready for what she hopes will be the last time she'll have to do this. And then it will be over.<p>

She needs it to be over.

That's when she sees _him_.

Her first thought is that he can't see her like this. But before she can flinch, he is through the door.

_Beckett_, he breathes, even as his eyes are taking her in, sweeping over her. She feels naked in front of him.

She frantically tries to rebuild the armor, cobble together some defenses, but it is a losing fight. So she does the only thing she can.

"Like what you see, Castle?"

He flushes and tries to avert his eyes, but they keep on returning to her, keep on returning to her face.

She looks away. "Come on, Castle, this has to be like your biggest dream come true."

She feels rather than sees him step closer and she doesn't need to hear him speak to know that this is not working.

"Beckett."

And because she is backed into a corner and because she can't do this, not with Castle here, and because she is tired and hurting and there is nothing else to do, she lashes out.

And then she runs.

**...**

He finds her sitting in a side hallway, back against the wall, jacket off, face buried in her arms. Her lack of reaction when he walks in, sits down beside her, tells him all he needs to know.

They sit there in silence for a while. It's quiet enough that he can hear the hitch in her breathing, almost quiet enough that he can hear everything she's not saying.

Finally he feels her shift, can tell she's about to get up.

"Beckett."

"Castle." Her voice is a little desperate. "I have to go, Castle." She stands, but surprisingly makes no move for the door.

He doesn't look at her. Pretends this is the most ordinary conversation in the world. "Beckett—Can I wait for you?"

She stills in front of him and he's afraid to breathe. Then, so small he almost misses it, she nods, and then she's walking out the door and then he's sitting in an empty hallway—

* * *

><p><em>The case is over. She and Royce feel over. Everything—<em>

* * *

><p>He waits at her desk as morning bleeds into afternoon falls into the night.<p>

* * *

><p><em>Montgomery makes her a deal. She goes to therapy, she can come and work for him.<em>

_She says yes and is grateful her voice holds steady._

* * *

><p>The precinct has long since gone dark, only the night shift providing the occasional spark of light among the work stations. Beckett walks out of Montgomery's office. She was in there for far too long. Surely they didn't need to debrief that very night. Surely it could have waited. Surely—<p>

But then he forgets everything because she's walking towards him.

She comes and sits down at her desk. She seems bent, somehow, burdened under the weight of so many things that he knows nothing about.

As if she senses his thoughts, she shifts in her chair.

"Ask the question, Castle." The words are weary, resigned.

But the question that comes out is not the one he meant to ask. "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

He doesn't say anything. And the longer the silence sits, the more it becomes an accusation.

**...**

So this is what they've become.

She thinks sometimes that if he could see what was really going on inside her head, he wouldn't be so trusting, so eager to follow.

She's not extraordinary. And she's afraid that one of these times he's going to find her out. On the good days she thinks that maybe that moment is still a ways off. On the bad days…

She wants to scream at Castle, tell him to get out, to leave.

_You don't know me. You can't know me._

* * *

><p>Today is a bad day.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

_So...not really sure where all of that come from. This is my first time writing in the Castle fandom, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Love it, hate it, let me know._


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